The Judas Kiss (8 page)

It was indeed simple, but some of them could hardly believe their ears. It was outrageous. They glared furiously at Adelaide, who sat with downcast eyes as though she was hardly listening. No one interrupted and the solicitor went on, "There are certain provisions affecting you all more immediately and these I had better read in detail.

"I would wish my house, Sunbay, to be carried on as far as possible as it has been in the past, that is as a residence for my said children until they marry, free from all charge, and I give to each of them the contents of the rooms or flats they occupy if they are in residence at the time of my death. I have already made some provision for them but I authorise my Trustees to pay to each of them any further sum up to five thousand pounds as may be directed in writing by my wife, the said Adelaide Michelmore, should they marry, or should other circumstances arise that in her opinion justify it. Such sums to be deducted from their eventual shares in my estate."

Mr. Watson raised his eyes from the document.

"There are legacies of five hundred pounds to the housekeeper, Hannah Wood, and of one hundred pounds to the gardener, Saul Teague, but that is all. I shall be happy to answer any questions you may care to ask me and, as I said, if you wish it I will let you each have a copy that you may consider at your leisure."

He stopped. There was silence for some moments. They all looked serious and the heightened colour in Emerald's cheeks told of suppressed anger. Jasper was the first to speak and his tone was normal, almost casual.

"Can you give us any idea of the amount of the estate?"

"That," Mr. Watson said, "is fortunately easy. Your father's investments were almost without exception in gilt-edged securities or good-class industrials. After paying duties there would be not less than eighty thousand pounds."

"Twenty thousand each. Could we realise anything on it, should we wish to do so?"

The solicitor shook his bead. "Other than the five thousand provided for, it would be difficult. The bequest is to the survivors at the time of Mrs. Michelmore's death."

"Do you mean?" Emerald's voice hardly concealed her rage, "do you mean we get nothing while Adelaide lives?"

"That is so, subject to the proviso as to marriage I read you."

"But we cannot marry without her consent!"

"Not quite that“ was the smooth reply. "Your marriage is no one's affair but your own, but you have to get her written consent if you wish to anticipate part of the money that may eventually be yours."

"It amounts to the same thing," the girl retorted hotly. "It is monstrous. She is little older than we are and is practically a stranger. Why should she dictate to us?"

"You told me you did not believe in marriage," Adelaide said gently.

"Perhaps I did," Emerald flushed, "but circumstances alter cases." Possibly she thought that would apply to Victor Gore-Black.

Mr. Watson did not answer and Jasper had something further to say in his more easy friendly manner.

"The will, if I heard you correctly, alluded to other circumstances. That, I take it, would apply to things that might affect the opportunities and advancement of the party concerned?"

"That could well be so," Mr. Watson nodded.

"Well, I have no thought of being married, at any rate at present, but I do wish to pursue my career as an artist. I feel it would be invaluable for me to be able to go to Paris, Rome and elsewhere to learn all I can of modern art, and to study the old Masters. I suppose a thousand or two would last me quite a time and be most valuable. What about it, Adelaide?"

She hesitated before she replied.

"I will pay you the fifty guineas your father owed you for my portrait, and a further fifty as he promised, if it is accepted for the Royal Academy. That is all I can say at present."

Pearl said nothing. Perhaps she had no immediate wants, perhaps her mind did not grapple so swiftly with such matters. Garnet took up the cry.

"I ask nothing for myself, but I have great opportunities in my Church for five thousand pounds or any lesser sum. I would see there was a worthy memorial to my father. I cannot think of a better."

"This is horrible, horrible!" Adelaide said, bursting into tears as though she could stand no more. "I loved George and would try to carry out what I believe would have been his wishes when I have time to think them over. But almost before the breath is out of his body, you are badgering me about money! I cannot endure it. I will go back to my room."

She got up and, with her handkerchief to her eyes, walked slowly to the door. Garnet opened it for her. Pearl went too, to ask if she would like her to be with her. Adelaide declined.

"A very good act," Emerald muttered scornfully. "Believe you me, she will stick to every penny she can for as long as she can."

"That is not fair!" Pearl said hotly.

"We know you toady to her," Emerald retorted. "Much good may it do you! There are one or two things I want to know."

"Yes?" murmured Mr. Watson.

"Can the will be contested?"

"On what grounds?"

"What are the usual grounds?" she demanded. "Such cases are common enough."

"There are normally three grounds for such cases," the solicitor replied looking at her through his heavy spectacles. "The first would be because of some irregularity in the execution of the will. As in this case it follows his written instructions and was duly signed and attested in my office, I do not think that arises. The second would be that the deceased was of unsound mind when he made the will, and the third undue influence by some party concerned. I do not think any of you would suggest insanity. Your father was in possession of all his faculties and lived a normal life."

"He did," Pearl said, and Garnet nodded.

"Undue influence," Emerald muttered. "Hers!"

"I saw no sign of it. He came alone to my office and his great wish was to provide adequately for her. He was obviously deeply attached. You must remember that his tragic end was as little foreseen by him as it was by you. He might reasonably have hoped to live for many years to come."

"Did you know she was about the same age as we are?" Jasper asked.

"I did not, nor did I see her, or my remonstrance would have been stronger. I imagined her to be about his own age. I did point out that any or all of you might wish to marry in his lifetime. He said he saw little sign of it, but in such a case he would do his duty by you. It would be simple to amend the will."

"You realise she was some sort of shopgirl?" Emerald said warmly. "The marriage lasted only these few weeks. Is it right for her to be put over us?"

"I would rather not discuss that. He had made some provision for you in the past and had supplemented it in the manner shown."

"Are you acting for us or for her?" the girl demanded bluntly.

"Strictly speaking, for none of you," Mr. Watson answered. "As executor I am acting for the will; that is, for my late client's expressed wishes. But I hope you will believe me when I say my opinions are sincere, however much I may regret them."

"You consider," Garnet said, "the will must be accepted?"

"Undoubtedly. Should any of you marry and should Mrs. Michelmore decline to authorise the Trustees to pay the sum provided, you could apply to the Courts to compel her to do so. I cannot say with what result but, unless she had valid reasons for her refusal, such application might well be successful. But why anticipate such trouble? Mrs. Michelmore is suffering from severe shock. Give her time to recover from it, show her your sympathy, and I do not doubt she will act as your father would have wished."

He then left them, glad perhaps to escape from a situation that he felt did him no great credit.

THERE was little opportunity for them to show sympathy or any other emotion in the days that followed. Adelaide had her meals in her room and they rarely saw her. She occasionally went for motor rides, driven by Pearl who was expert at the wheel. Letters of condolence and gifts of flowers called for acknowledgement but Garnet undertook to deal with them.

The only person who seemed to enjoy the young widow's confidence was Ruth Bennion. Almost every day Adelaide would slip into the next-door house with her problems. Ruth was naturally sympathetic and felt really sorry for her, with no friends or relations of her own and surrounded by those who, with the possible exception of Pearl, made no pretence of affection.

Adelaide told her of the clauses in the will and asked what she thought should be done about them.

"I think," said Ruth slowly, "I should let them each have their five thousand pounds as soon as you can."

"And lose a quarter of my income?"

"There is plenty left, isn't there?"

"I don't really know. Mr. Watson said the will had to be proved, whatever that may mean. But why should I let them have it?"

"If you are to live happily with them, it seems the only way."

"But suppose George would not have approved?"

"Was it not his wish? They are his children."

"Then what do you think of this?" Adelaide asked. "Yesterday I wanted to speak to Emerald about it. She and Victor Gore-Black had both said they did not believe in marriage. I used the special house telephone. There was no reply, but I heard them talking. They must have left off the receiver. They were in bed together."

"How do you know that?" Ruth spoke coldly.

"They must have been. The 'phone is on the table beside the bed. She keeps it there so that she can ask for her breakfast to be brought up. I heard them distinctly."

"They were no doubt in the room. You cannot say more than that."

"Does it matter? Emerald asked him when should they announce their engagement? He said, 'Five thousand pounds is a useful sum; it wants thinking over.' 'There is another fifteen thousand when she dies,' Emerald told him. 'When she dies,' he repeated; 'she may outlive us both.' 'But we can get the five thousand now we are engaged; the lawyer told us so. If he is wrong, we can call it off if you want to.'

"I don't mean I heard it all clearly, word for word like that," Adelaide added, "but that was the effect of it and they went over it again and again. What do you think of it?"

"He does not sound very pleasant, but she is clearly in love with him. You must help her all you can."

"But I do not like him. I do not believe he would be faithful to her," Adelaide objected.

"She knows him well if your suspicions are correct," Ruth said. "If he will make an honest woman of her, as the old stories used to put it, it is up to her, not to you."

"She has always been beastly to me."

"Then let her have her money provided they marry and go away and leave you in peace."

Adelaide, like many another, wanted advice but was not pleased when it was not the advice she wanted.

Through the agency of Pearl, Jasper got the money for his picture. He told his sister mysteriously a client wanted to see him. He did not say who or where. Adelaide drew the cheque, although she said it was not really her debt, but George's. She would keep her promise.

Jasper dashed off for St. Malo. He had heard from the picture dealer, M. Lanier, who had sold a previous effort and thought he might place others. He took with him several sketches and a few canvases, including his conception of Grief. He booked a room in a small hotel near the Cathedral and after a satisfying déjeuner made his way to the dealer's shop.

The interview was fairly satisfactory. Lanier bought three of his works outright, for what sounded a lot of money until one remembered a franc was worth less than a farthing, and kept Grief and some others for further consideration. In the evening Jasper found his way to an attractive café.

There was music inside but the more interesting seats were those on the street where one could watch the passers-by. All the tables appeared to be taken. He was about to turn away when a man by himself beckoned him and said he was welcome to sit there if he cared to do so. In his rather halting French Jasper thanked him and took the seat.

"Monsieur is English perhaps?" the man said, in that tongue.

Jasper admitted he was and regretted his poor French had given him away so quickly.

"Mais non, Monsieur. Your French is excellent, but I speak some English and am lucky to be able to practise it." He shrugged in Gallic fashion as he spoke. He was middle-aged, rather stout, and smartly dressed; his dark curly hair and his short pointed beard made his skin seem pale, though his eyes were alert. A waiter came up and Jasper invited his companion to join him in a drink.

"As a visitor you should be my guest," the man said.

"As an artist who has actually sold a picture, the drinks are on me," Jasper returned, glad perhaps to get in his little boast.

A shrug. "Eh bien alors, my congratulations. Another Dubonnet."

Jasper gave the order and asked for a café and cognac for himself.

"So Monsieur is an artist. I hope the pictures sell well."

"Not too badly," Jasper smiled. "Perhaps you know Emile Lanier?"

"I know of him. A fair man. Of course he has to make his profit."